Six & One
by xTimorousBeastie
Summary: Six times the Doctor takes Rose Tyler's hand. And one time he doesn't.


Six times the Doctor took Rose Tyler's hand.

And the one time He didn't. (9xRose edition)

**1.**

When he offers her the chance to travel around and she refused, the Doctor doesn't look back. He presses buttons, flips switches, pulls a few levers and holds his trusty rubber mallet threateningly until the grind of the breaks disappear, signaling that he and his great blue box were no longer sitting in the South London ally way.

Maybe the blonde with the name of a flower, clingy boyfriend, flirty mum and a bronze medal in gymnastics wasn't right for him; for this life although he'd have to admit that holding her hand had felt better than when he had held others he'd come across in this body. Maybe this face and this body and this personality were just meant to be alone. To save people and then move on, with no one but the TARDIS to keep him company like the good ol' days before the aching loneliness had first set in. But that was a lot- too much to put on one small blonde who rejected his offer, so he tries again and again and again.

There was the boy from Peru who looked no older than fourteen but was really twenty-three, but he was too shy, too timid for the Doctors tastes and after he got captured because he couldn't move his feet from fear or stupidity or something else he really didn't care for, he was dropped back off without a second word.

Next ws a woman from Texas. Big and bold with balls of brass, that one. She was closer to his age- or his current appearance if you wanted to be more accurate- than others before her, and she could easily keep up with him. But she was gun happy and after she had killed her third alien just because she could, it was all the Doctor could do to drop her off at her ranch and not in the middle of the ocean. Or deep space.

On and on his search went, humans and aliens alike were tested out, the longest one lasting just barely three months before something happens or he loses interest and before he knows it, it's been a year since he's been in that London ally way and he's back in the TARDIS alone. He's not sure how it happens- if he made an unconscious decision or if his ship made it for him, but one day finds him in that ally in the South of London just moments after he initially vanished without a trace- a whole years worth of time erased, just like that.

The heavy footfalls of his even heavier boots echo as he steps across the grate, before he throws the door open.

"Did I mention she time travels?"

That was all that it took and after a few words to Ricky the Idiot, she's off and running down and through the door, closing it securely after her.

He doesn't realize he's holding his hand out to her until she takes it, and finally some of that gaping loneliness dissipates.

**2.**

It's the end of the world. A man made- is that even a fitting word anymore?- shield had kept the earth safe after the sun had exploded, and now? Now it had been lowered for the rich and influential across the universe to watch the now empty planet dissolve into space dust as if it was simply an entertaining program rather than something that had once held so much potential and promise turning into nothing.

It wasn't until chunks of the planet below started flying past the station he had saved only minutes before that the Doctor learned that, in the room filled with aliens like himself-no, not like himself, never again like himself- his little human charge was missing. He didn't bother excusing himself, not like anyone would even pay attention, as he leaves the large viewing room to seek out his new companion.

It was hardly surprising that she had managed to secure a viewing room all to herself, just down the hall from the room where he had jiggery pokeried her phone and had later, very nearly been the site of her death but he doubted she even noticed.

She was standing there, gazing out the window- just inches from the treated barrier that kept her from dying in a haze of light and fire. Not wanting to disturb her thoughts just yet, he hung back, leaning against the doorframe silently, watching her as she watched what was left of her planet- as it broke off into smaller and smaller pieces that floated by before crumbling.

She was rather unique- this pale human was- he noted with a cock of his head. She had stuck by him through mannequins that came to life, a giant vat of talking plastic, and now almost being burnt to a crisp with him right outside the door, struggling- and almost failing- to save her, yet…she had yet to demand that she be returned home. It made some part of him wonder just how much it would take to break her.

That in mind, he started moving, stepping up to stand beside her, studying the plains of her face- so soft and containing the roundness of adolescence yet. When was the last time he had traveled with someone so young? A babe compared to him, really.

"The end of the Earth. It's gone…we were too busy saving ourselves, no one saw it go. All those years, all that history and no one was even looking. It's just…"

She trails off and he looks at her once more, surprised at the words, the astute selflessness and wonder and he searches her face as if expecting to see someone other than the nineteen year old stupid ape that already seems so danger prone but, nope, it's still her.

Maybe she won't break, this one, but only time will tell.

"Come with me…" he states, the softness in his usually gruff voice surprising him just as much as his hand reaching out for hers does and he wonders if this'll become a frequent thing- holding hands with this human girl with her bleached hair and dark eyebrows.

She takes it almost immediately- fingers entwining with his with ease and he fights the urge to simultaneously purse his lips and smile at the innocent touch- as if either'll send her skittering away like a colt. She's too new at this, she doesn't have her time travel legs, her Doctor legs and despite his wondering earlier about her breaking, he doesn't want to feel lonely again just yet so he turns, tightening his grip and drags her along, out of the room lit red by the end of the world.

**3.**

They were running, the two of them. The Doctor and his plus one on the trip for all of space and time. Running for their lives yet laughing at the same time at the thought of their demise if they were caught by the creatures coming after them- all of two feet tall, with big, cartoonish eyes and floppy ears and tails that resembled bunny rabbits. They were vicious, these things were, but they were adorable in equal measure and that was how they hunted.

He had let his companion out of his sight for a mere moment as he surveyed the area, turning back quickly at the sound of her surprised, slightly pained squeak to see one of the creatures latched onto her fingers- teeth almost the size of its head buried into her flesh just deep enough to gain purchase and body swaying something fierce as she attempted to shake it off. Apparently she had attempted to pet it, and apparently he had forgotten to warn her against that- or maybe he had and she had forgotten or had outright ignored his warnings. The latter options seemed more plausible. He was the Doctor- he didn't forget; his brain was too big, too advanced to be forgetting something so basic.

But she was his charge and he had helped pry the creature off, pricking his own finger on a sharp tooth and creating prey out of himself as well. He didn't even hesitate, the Doctor, to grab her uninjured hand after freeing her, and starting to run, pulling her behind him as he made way towards the TARDIS, for while it had broken down it was still more than capable of holding out against alien bunnies with shark teeth.

It was her who started laughing first, fingers tightening around his routinely as her laughter caused them to spasm unconsciously. He wasn't sure when he himself joined in, he only noticed the sound- rusty from disuse- was tumbling from his own lips once the blue ship that had been his home for oh so long was finally in sight.

He found that he didn't let go of her hand until the fifth whack of the console with his mallet and his laughter danced with hers for much longer.

**4.**

She was breaking, he could tell. It wasn't the travels or the danger that was doing it. No, it was exhaustion, it was lack of sleep and he mentally chastised himself over the fact that it took him this long for him to notice as he catches sight of her slumped over the counter in the small TARDIS kitchenette.

He really should have realized it sooner. She was always awake when he was- either puttering around, bringing him meals and tea and bananas or reading in the captains chair, all the while talking aloud just so- at least that's what he suspected- he wouldn't be left alone in silence. Such a practice was alright with him- Time Lords didn't need much sleep, and could handle with a short kip once a week or so unless they had been weakened. It was murder to humans.

She attempted to brush it off, play like she wouldn't fall down if she let go of the counter and he wasn't having it.

Face set, he took long strides and didn't even bat an eye as he took her small hand in his larger one and tugged her none to gently towards the hallway that would lead to the room she had taken over as her own.

"You're no good to me, you stupid ape, if you're dead on your feet."

She didn't have anything to say to that and only quickened her pace so she could rest her cheek on the Doctors shoulder as they moved.

He found he didn't mind.

**5.**

She had insisted that she could do it alone, but the Doctor wasn't having any of it. His fragile, danger prone human, trying to feel her way through a planet that was pure, unadulterated darkness? One could only imagine the trouble she'd get herself into- walking into walls, stepping on someone's hair- the natives of the planet they were currently visiting kept their hair so long it trailed behind them for several feet, and to step on it was considered a grave offense- or, Rassilon forbid, fall off a cliff. The cliffs were few and far between on this planet, but he knew, even with all her bravado and cheerfulness, his companion would find one, and fall off of it.

He just knew it.

So before she could even finish her protest, her hand was firmly in his and her side pulled flush against his. He wasn't about to lose her, especially not to a cliff. She was much too entertaining and kept the loneliness at bay oh so well.

Holding hands had quickly become their thing oh so long ago and it was no longer awkward when one hand sought out another and neither him or his blonde minded when ones thumb stroked the back of the others hand absently- as they both seemed to be doing.

All of a sudden, he was glad for the dark. That way she was unable to see the smile on his face and the heat that filled his cheeks at the simplest of motions.

**6.**

It wasn't the first time they've danced, nor the second or even the third. No, ever since he had first taken her into her arms and moved around the console room to the sound of music playing from unseen speakers, his precious girl has been demanding them more and more with that smile that has her tongue sticking out from the side of her teeth.

He doesn't mind. It's lighthearted even with Jack cutting in to dance with one or the other, sidelining one half of the original duo every so often. But most of the time? It's just them. The Doctor and her, dancing dances from all over time and space through the halls of the TARDIS, which had become her home as much as it was his. The tango and the jive, the Malonbry rain dance and so many more- although the Doctor drew the line at the mating dances that Jack offered to teach them. That was just a little too close for comfort in his mind.

Hand holding had evolved, become closer than something that mates did- and that's what they were now, there was no way he could deny it. Best mates traveling around in a blue box with a Time Agent from the 51st century and an American accent as a tag along to fill out the missing edges of their lives.

He had come to accept it, she had come to accept it, and it seemed the TARDIS had come to accept it, all but purring every time his hand touched hers in the slightest of ways or that he made her smile or vice versa and- oh _Rassilon_- how he loved this woman. It had snuck up on him, really it did. By the time he even noticed how he felt he had already fallen to deep, too far and had no hope of ever getting back up.

He loved being around her and joking with her and helping her pronounce the names of planets and species- she was such a good learner his stupid blonde ape was. He loved dancing and…he loved hand holding.

Maybe he was becoming a sodden old fool in his age, feeling this way for someone who barely had twenty years to his nine hundred or maybe he was confusing the feeling of love for something else but he'd think about that later because all he needed was her hand in his as they jitterbugged down an empty TARDIS hall in perfect costume.

**7.**

The numbers specifying floors couldn't move fast enough. If what "Linda with a Y" said was correct, he had to get up to her floor and he had to get up there now. His foot was tapping with anxious, nervous energy that filled up the lift and made it so stifling that even Lynda and Jack didn't say a word. A game show, she was on a game show, and she didn't know anything that was beyond her time frame, how was she expected to win when the cost was death?

And then, finally, the doors opened, and the trio filed out in time to see an android get ready to fire at his human and she saw the Doctor and the Doctor saw her, but so did the Ann Droid and she spun around to take aim at him instead but his girl wasn't having it and she ran, ran to him with her hand stretched out to push him away and his extended to grab it and pull her aside and out of harms way but… before they could make contact the beam fired.

It wasn't the Doctor who was hit.

It was her.

And she was turned into a small pile of ash at his feet because he was too slow in taking her hand and protecting her from all of this. From this in particular.

He fell to his knees, numb from his toes to his head and everything in between, his fingers reaching for the pile of ash that used to be a living, breathing, pink and yellow human girl with bleached hair and dark eyebrows and a smile that could light up the universe and a tongue that always wanted to peek.

He could hear Jack distantly, shouting not to touch the Doctor and how they had killed her, oh they had killed her. How was the Captain not as tore up about this as he was?

Rose Tyler was dead and the Doctor couldn't save her.

Was this was failure felt like?

Or just heartbreak?


End file.
